


On the Cusp

by Elorianna



Series: Never-Ending Spirals [3]
Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets, Milex - Fandom
Genre: First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, canonesque
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:34:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22001809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elorianna/pseuds/Elorianna
Summary: On a hot summer day during their EYCTE Puppets tour, Miles and Alex find themselves stuck on a tour bus without any air conditioning. As they try to find ways to distract themselves from the heat, the boys end up struggling to maintain their cool in more ways than one…
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Series: Never-Ending Spirals [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571212
Comments: 12
Kudos: 100





	On the Cusp

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a follow-up / prequel to Illuminations on a Rainy Day and Something in Your Magnetism :)

**_– Ohio, July 2016 –_ **

Miles tugged open the door of the mini fridge, pulled out a bottle of chilled water and held it against his face. His skin practically sizzled. The air on the bus was almost damp enough to drink. He was barefoot and had stripped down to the bare minimum of clothing, but it was making little difference to his rising body temperature.

Through the windows, the highway passed by in a blur of asphalt and sunshine. It would be nearly two hours before they hit Detroit and found some place to cool down. He might well have melted into a human puddle by then.

“Miles!”

He turned round. Zach waved a deck of cards at him from the lounge area up front, where everyone else was sprawled about in similar states of semi-undress.

“Are you going to join us then?” Zach said.

“Maybe in a bit mate. Start without me, yeah?”

Zach lifted an eyebrow at him. “Sure thing.” He turned back to the others and began dealing out the cards. “No, I thought you said we were playing aces high. I do so understand the rules–”

Miles shook his head with a smile. He leant back against the kitchen counter and gazed out at the rolling landscape. They’d been touring for a whole four months now, but it didn’t feel like it. The days had sped by in a haze of colour and noise, music and laughter. So far he’d loved every minute of it. He loved the gigs, the travelling, the banter, and the non-stop craziness of it all. He even tolerated the cramped living conditions on the bus with grace and good humour, for the most part.

And the best bit of the whole adventure was the fact that he was getting to share it with Alex. Performing with Alex night after night was quite literally the most fun he’d ever had. His face had never ached so much from smiling. There was something about being on tour together which had brought the two of them even closer, if that were possible, and living in such a small space had done nothing to diminish the pleasure they found in each other’s company. If anything, the opposite was true.

Miles caught himself smiling again. He couldn't help it. Over the course of the summer, his and Alex’s friendship had grown into something really special, and no one who knew them could deny it. Whilst the other guys in the band would sometimes bicker and fall out over silly little things, he and Alex hadn't exchanged so much as a cross word during the entire trip. And whilst the two of them had always shared a certain physical affection, it seemed that barely an hour went by these days without Alex catching him in a hug or dropping a kiss on his cheek, or without Miles responding in kind.

The affection didn’t stop at the stage door either. It carried over into their live gigs and was somehow magnified by their performance. They flirted jokingly on stage, kissed each other’s cheeks, sang with their arms wrapped round one another, or with their fingers intertwined. It seemed that their friendship itself had become an integral part of the show.

Now, each time they played, Miles couldn’t help but be aware of a strange sort of doubling effect.

On the one hand, he knew that Alex was only hyping up the chemistry between them in the name of entertainment. He knew it and he participated willingly for the shits and giggles. The audience reaction was always worth it, and he got just as many kicks from the screams and cheers as Alex did.

But on the flip side, he also knew that every touch and gesture that Alex bestowed on him was motivated by genuine fondness; and it was a fact probably as obvious to the audience as it was to him. It didn’t matter how exaggerated Alex’s mock flirtations became, that fondness never wavered. It was always there, humming like a subtle harmony beneath the surface of their stage play.

There were times when Miles found that truth a little unsettling. Sometimes, it almost felt as though Alex was taking the reality of their private affection for one another and turning it into a public spectacle, and for some reason that Miles couldn’t explain, the thought left him with a vague sense of unease.

It shouldn’t have been important. After all, it wasn’t as though either of them had anything to hide. But nonetheless, there had been odd moments on stage when Alex had done something to spark a reaction from the crowd, and Miles had suddenly found himself with an uncomfortable awareness of all those eyes watching them.

The most recent instance of it had been last night, at their gig in Cleveland.

Nothing had happened, really. The whole thing had just been an accident. Alex had found himself without a mic at the crucial moment and had leapt across the stage to share Miles’s, that was all. It was nothing out of the ordinary for them; they ended up sharing a mic during most of their shows anyway. But the way that Alex had ground himself against Miles’s thigh while they sang… that had certainly been new.

Not that Miles was bothered by it, because he wasn’t. Why should he be? Alex had just been kidding around, like he always did. But still, in the brief moment when Alex’d grabbed hold of him, Miles had felt that strange flutter of self-consciousness rising up in his stomach. He'd felt the eyes of the crowd on him like a physical weight, and all at once he’d been far too aware of his own body, and of how warm Alex’s fingers had felt on the back of his neck.

Miles shook his head. He pressed the cold bottle to his cheek again, and the cool plastic gave some relief to his overheated skin. It was really the wrong sort of weather to be thinking about daft things like this. What he ought to be doing was playing cards with the others and taking some chill time before the next gig, when they’d have to do it all over again. Some sleep wouldn’t go amiss either. It was probably a combination of tiredness and dehydration, after all, that was making his mind wander in these silly spirals. He’d feel more like himself after a few solid hours’ kip. It was just too bad that he’d have to wait until they hit Detroit. Sleeping on the bus was impossible. It was like trying to sleep in a vat of warm soup.

His thoughts were interrupted at that moment by a low groan. The sound came from somewhere towards the back of the bus, and as he glanced in that direction, his mouth twitched into a smile. It sounded like a certain somebody had just woken up from his nap.

He pocketed his bottle of water, made his way down the central aisle towards the sleeping area and gently eased aside the partition door. The space on the other side of the door was dim, lit only by the soft, bluish light from the overhead strips.

“Al?”

There was a rustle from the middle bunk on the right hand side. Miles went towards it and tapped his knuckles against the curtain. “You up?”

There was another muffled groan. “Why’s it so bloody hot in here?”

Miles pulled the curtain aside to reveal Alex, pink-cheeked and tousle-haired, lying sprawled in his vest and boxers on top of the sheets. His skin was coated in a light sheen of sweat.

“Driver says the air-con unit’s fucked,” Miles said.

“Oh Christ, not again.”

“Yep.”

Alex rubbed both hands over his face. “How much longer till we get there?”

“Couple of hours probably, if there’s no traffic.”

“God. It’s too hot to sleep in here. What are we supposed to do till then?”

Miles shrugged a shoulder. “There’s a card game going on in the lounge if you want to join?”

Alex made a face. “I don’t think so. Not sure I’ve the mental capacity for cards right now.”

“Well, I dunno then. We could go over the set list for tomorrow if yeh want?”

Alex rubbed at his face again. He blinked at the sunlight which was filtering into the sleeping area from the open partition door. “I s’pose we could,” he said. “Can’t be arsed to fuckin’ move though.”

Miles chuckled. “That bad, is it?”

“Worse.”

“S’alright, stay put. I’ll come up.”

Alex looked at him bleary-eyed, but then moved over as Miles climbed up and into the bunk. There was just about enough room for them both to lie there side by side, and although it was pretty stuffy in the enclosed space, it was hardly any worse than the rest of the bus. Alex propped himself up on one elbow and yawned as Miles rummaged in the back pocket of his shorts and brought out a crumpled copy of their notes for the gig.

“Here yeh go.”

Alex took the piece of paper from him and squinted at it. He blinked a couple of times, gnawing on his bottom lip. “I think this looks fine the way it is, actually,” he said, after a minute. “Maybe we could switch it up a bit towards the end, just to keep things interesting.”

“Are yeh sayin’ you’re getting bored with our show?”

Alex snorted. “Nah. Course not. Nothing’s boring wi’ you around, is it?”

Miles grinned. “Happy to know I’m keeping you entertained.”

Alex returned his grin with a wry smile. He folded the set list neatly in half and flopped on to his back. “Well that didn’t kill much time,” he said. “What now?”

Miles shrugged again. “I dunno. Game of I Spy?”

Alex groaned. “Please, anythin’ but that.”

“You’re a hard man to please, you do know that, right?”

Alex looked at him sideways. “M’not _that_ hard to please,” he said. He closed his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. “Christ. I feel like I’m in a fuckin’ sauna.”

Miles smiled. “Yeah, you kind of look like it too, to be fair. Come ‘ere, yer hair’s all stickin’ to yeh.” He reached over and pushed the dark tangle of Alex’s hair back from his forehead.

Alex flinched.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Why’re your hands so bloody cold?”

“Oh, sorry.” Miles pulled the bottle out of his pocket and waved it at him. “Straight out the fridge. Surprised yer complaining, thought you said you were too hot.”

“M’not complaining, I just weren’t expecting it, that’s all. Here–” Alex grabbed Miles’s hand and placed it palm down on his own forehead. “There, that feels better.”

Miles laughed. “If you think that’s good, try this.” He pressed the cold bottle against Alex’s neck.

Alex yelped. “Fuckin’ hell, that’s freezing.”

“Too much?”

“No, hardly enough. Feel like I’m being slowly cooked to death.”

“Well if you want any more, you’ll have to take yer shirt off.”

Alex spluttered a laugh and his hair flopped back into his eyes. “Charming,” he said. “Is that what you say to all the girls?”

Miles’s smile widened into a grin. “Hey, it’s your choice,” he said. “You’re the one who’s hot.”

Alex gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You know what,” he said, “fuck it.” He sat up, pulled his vest off over his head and chucked it over the side of the bunk. He lay back in just his underwear, his lip curled in a smirk. “Be gentle.”

Miles stared at him. “You’ve got no shame, have yeh?”

“None whatsoever.”

Miles shook his head. “Fuck’s sake. Lie flat, then.”

Alex shifted on to his back, folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes again.

Miles looked at him for a second, then uncapped the bottle and took a sip of water. Alex looked so bloody at ease, lying there in his boxers with a smirk still playing about his lips. His skin had turned a deep honey shade from all their days in the sun, and it suited him. His hair was longer and it’d begun to curl into unruly tendrils around his ears, and that suited him too. In fact, Miles had to admit that Alex was looking pretty good in general, considering how little sleep they’d both had during their time on the road. He wasn’t sure that he could say the same for himself.

He capped the bottle again, leaned across, and pressed it lightly to Alex’s collarbones.

Alex hissed and screwed up his face. “Bloody hell.”

“What, too cold?”

“No, no. I mean, yeah, it is, but keep going.”

Miles snorted. “So fuckin’ demanding.” He rolled the bottle once across Alex’s stomach. Alex hissed again, but he didn’t ask Miles to stop, so Miles pushed the bottle up over his ribs and higher to his chest. Alex winced when Miles rolled it over one of his nipples.

“Sorry. Is that too sensitive?”

Alex shook his head, his eyes still shut. “S’fine, I can handle it.”

“If you say so.”

Miles pressed the bottle down a little harder and glanced at Alex’s face. There was still a rosy tint to his cheeks and the hair at his temples was damp with sweat. He looked as overheated as ever.

Miles pushed Alex’s hair back once more, lifted the bottle to Alex’s forehead and laid it against the warm skin. Alex’s eyelids twitched, and then he exhaled with a soft sound, somewhere in between a hum and a sigh. It was a satisfied sort of sound and Miles found himself smiling in response, pleased to have caused it. He took the bottle and rolled it once more over Alex’s chest. Alex shifted like he was trying to get comfortable. The damp plastic had left his skin glistening with little droplets of condensation.

It gave Miles a new idea.

He leaned closer, drew in a breath and then blew out gently across Alex’s body.

Alex’s eyes flew open. “What are you doing?”

“Just cooling you down.”

“Oh.” Alex blinked at him. “Yeah, that was… pretty effective, actually.”

“Here, then.” Miles uncapped the bottle and tipped a tiny bit of water into his palm. He sprinkled it carefully over Alex’s chest. “Ready?”

Alex gave a small nod.

Miles took another breath, leaned down and blew. This time, Alex reacted with a visible shiver. “Fuck,” he said.

“What’s the matter? Too much?”

Alex looked at him with an odd expression, not quite a frown but something close to it. “No, s’fine,” he said. “It helps.”

“Want some more, then?”

Alex appeared to hesitate. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “Alright.”

Miles uncapped the bottle again and this time he trickled the water across Alex’s stomach. He dipped his head and blew. Alex took a sharp breath, and once again Miles found himself oddly pleased with the reaction.

He blew for a second time and the water fled in rivulets over Alex's bronzed skin. Miles stared at the shining droplets, and then he frowned. He had the sudden bizarre urge to press his tongue to them, and lick them off.

He sat back in a hurry. What the hell was that about? The damn heat was obviously getting to him. His brain had short-circuited a wire.

He screwed the cap back on the bottle and chanced a look at Alex's face. Alex's cheeks were still pink, despite the fact that there were goose bumps rising on his arms.

“You okay?”

Alex nodded. “M’fine,” he said. He glanced down at himself, as though he was admiring Miles’s handiwork. “Except I'm all wet now.”

Miles’s eyes trailed over Alex’s body. “Yeah...” he said. “You are, aren't you?”

“M’thirsty too.”

Miles held the bottle out to him, but Alex didn't pay it any attention. He was still gazing down at himself. Miles watched as Alex dragged a finger through the shallow pool that had collected on his stomach, brought the finger to his mouth, and sucked.

Miles found he was having sudden difficulty swallowing. It was so bloody airless in the narrow bunk. Perhaps he ought to suggest that they get up, after all. Perhaps he should tell Alex that he was going to go join the others at the front end of the bus, where it would probably be cooler. That would be the most sensible thing to do right about now.

Instead, he said nothing. He watched as Alex traced a finger over his wet skin once again, and brought it to his lips.

An unexpected burst of laughter from outside the sleeping area made them both jump.

“Look, I’m not judging. If you want to drink tea in 30 degree heat then by all means–” Zach’s voice carried easily over the short distance between the kitchen and Alex’s bunk. It was accompanied by the clink of crockery, the sound of cupboards opening and closing, and more laughter.

Miles flicked his eyes towards the open partition door and then back to Alex, who hadn’t moved. He was still lying there damp-skinned in just his boxers, still wearing that serious expression that was not quite a frown. Looking at him, Miles was seized with the sudden desire to reach for the curtain and pull it across, concealing them from sight.

His fingers twitched, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t pull the curtain shut. How could he do that? It would be almost like admitting something.

The voices and laughter in the kitchen grew louder. He could hear someone milling about on the other side of the partition, barely ten feet away. He shifted uncomfortably, glanced towards the door again, and then back at Alex.

Alex was leaning towards him.

Miles went totally still.

Then he realised that Alex was reaching over him and past him, to take hold of the curtain himself. Alex tugged it shut in one quick motion, and they were plunged into a humid darkness.

Miles blinked as his eyes adjusted. He could see Alex watching him, but he couldn’t make out his expression any more. The narrow bunk was even stuffier with the curtain closed. There seemed to be not enough oxygen in the air.

“It’s fuckin’ hot in here, Al,” he whispered.

“Give me that thing,” Alex said.

Miles realised that Alex meant the bottle. He handed it over and Alex took it from him, and then without warning he pressed it against Miles’s neck.

Miles’s breath hitched. “Fuck, that’s cold.”

“Shall I stop?”

Miles hesitated. He dragged his tongue over his dry lips. “No.”

“Take your vest off.”

Miles sat up slowly. He took hold of the bottom of his vest, pulled it over his head and chucked it towards the bottom of the bunk. He could hear Alex breathing. The sound seemed to fill the whole space.

He lay back down again, and felt at once the cold plastic surface of the bottle on his stomach as Alex began to roll it back and forth. He could feel Alex’s fingers there too, bumping carelessly against his skin with every roll, as though by accident. Was it by accident?

Alex withdrew the bottle and Miles heard him unscrewing the cap.

“Where d’ya want it?” Alex whispered.

“You what?”

“The water. Where d’ya want it?”

“Oh. Erm, I dunno. Just… anywhere’s fine.”

Alex cupped his hand to the neck of the bottle and tipped. He did it clumsily and the water spilled between his fingers, splashing the sheets. He trickled what was left of it across Miles’s chest, and then he leant down, and blew.

Miles felt the prickle of a thousand shivers rush across his skin. Every single hair on his body was standing on end. His upper half was freezing, and yet he could feel that his cheeks were on fire. He hoped to god that Alex couldn’t see his face in the dark.

“More?” Alex said.

“Erm… yeah, sure.”

Alex inched closer, and this time as he leant down to blow, his damp fingers came into contact with Miles’s hip. Alex let them rest there, supporting his own weight as he breathed out across Miles’s stomach. Miles swallowed hard. There was something in that casual touch that was maddening. It reminded him of the way Alex touched him on stage; the subtle brush of fingers over his arm or across the back of his neck, the little flirtations that were only ever meant to tease.

Was that what Alex was doing now? Was his casual touch only meant to tease? 

What would Alex do if Miles tried to touch him back?

Why the _hell_ was he asking himself that question?

Miles felt suddenly as though he was walking a tightrope in a high wind with no safety harness. He was swaying over a fatal drop with nothing to break his fall. He’d never had to think about these types of boundaries before. Not with Alex. Not when their physical closeness had always felt so natural. How could he suddenly be so confused about whether or not he was allowed to touch him? And about whether or not Alex wanted him to?

 _Did_ Alex want him to?

Alex had leaned away from him again, but his fingers were still splayed across Miles’s hip. Miles could feel every single point of contact. Alex shifted beside him, and as he did so, one of his bare feet brushed feather-light across Miles’s ankle.

“Al?”

“Yeah?”

“Give me the bottle.”

Alex handed it to him without a word. Miles cupped his palm and poured out several careful centimetres of the cool liquid. Alex had moved on to his back without being asked, and Miles trickled the water in a straight line from his collar bones to his belly button. When his hand was empty, Miles took a deep breath, but he didn’t blow it out. He turned his palm upside down, spread his fingers and laid them flat on Alex’s chest. Alex’s breath jumped beneath his hand. Miles held still and waited for Alex to speak, to ask him what he was doing, or to make a teasing remark, or something. But Alex said nothing.

Miles began to move his hand. He spread the droplets of water outwards across Alex’s upper body, sweeping them in circles over his skin. His hand travelled downwards, smoothing over Alex’s waist, his stomach, and finally stopping at the waistband of his boxers. He let his fingers rest there, willing the touch to appear nonchalant, and then he leaned down and exhaled in a puff of air.

Alex moaned softly.

Miles stopped breathing.

That sound… it wasn’t one that he’d ever heard Alex make, but it was difficult to misinterpret. Alex’s stomach had gone stiff beneath his hand, every muscle tensed. Miles didn’t dare look him in the face. He could feel himself swaying on that tightrope again. One misstep and he might plunge from the wire, and it was a long fucking way to fall.

It was then that he felt Alex’s fingers close around his wrist.

He froze, motionless, and there was a long charged pause.

Alex kept hold of him, his grip tight, and Miles tried not to focus on how hot Alex’s fingers were against his skin. He tried not to think about how shallow and quick his own breathing had become, and how loud it sounded in his ears.

And then Alex was dragging his hand downwards, over the waistband of his boxers. Miles felt a pulse of heat race up his neck as his fingertips skimmed the surface of the flimsy fabric, and the hardness that lay beneath.

Alex didn’t say anything. Nor did he let go of Miles’s wrist.

Miles leaned close, and the creak of the bunk beneath him was like a confession. He splayed his fingers wide, took another shallow breath, hesitated for one last endless moment… and then he pressed his palm against the hard shape of Alex’s cock.

Alex arched right off the mattress and the sound that escaped him was obscene. And obscenely _loud_. Panic shot through Miles’s bloodstream and seized him by the throat, and before he’d had chance to second guess his own actions, he was on top of Alex with a hand clamped down over Alex’s mouth.

Alex stared up at him, his eyes huge. He began to squirm. Miles could see the pulse of his heartbeat beating a frantic rhythm in his throat. Miles gave a sharp shake of his head. He brought his free hand to his lips and held up his finger. _Shush_. Alex stopped moving. He blinked a few times, his eyes still wide and startled. Miles tapped a finger against his own ear. _Listen_.

Alex’s gaze went to the curtain that concealed them inside the bunk. From the kitchen came the splash of water in the sink and the sound of someone humming in a low baritone. The kettle was coming to a boil.

“What was that you said, _four_ sugars? Are you kidding me?”

Zach’s voice was so clear, he might have been standing right next to them. Alex met Miles’s gaze again, and now there was understanding in it.

Miles took his fingers away from Alex’s mouth and they stared at each other in loaded silence.

Miles’s throat was dry. That familiar flutter of self-consciousness was back, tinged now with a mounting anxiety. He was all too aware of the heat of Alex’s body beneath him, and the dizzying knowledge that it was far from unpleasant, but the sudden panic had snapped him out of his trance and now his sanity was hammering down the door. This was crazy, wasn’t it? What the fuck were the two of them _doing?_ This had to be some kind of temporary heat-induced insanity.

Miles braced his hands against the mattress and started to push himself away.

Alex grabbed him by the arm. “Miles,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

Alex opened his mouth, then closed it again. His brow furrowed. He looked as though he was trying to work out the answer to a very complicated question. His eyes flicked from Miles’s face, to his neck, to his shirtless torso and back again.

In the end, he said nothing.

He reached for Miles’s hand, pulled it tentatively towards him, and laid it back where it’d been before – palm down across his own mouth.

Miles’s stomach flipped over.

Alex’s fingers were curling around his upper arm again, pulling him downwards. Their bare chests met with a press of skin and now Miles could feel the hammering of Alex’s heart. Or maybe it was his own heart. It was impossible to distinguish the two rhythms any more. The look in Alex’s eyes was one of wild realisation. Miles had no fucking clue what expression his own face was making.

“Alex?”

Alex hummed against his palm. His grip tightened around Miles’s bicep, and without warning he jerked his hips upwards. Miles almost choked. He could feel every inch of Alex’s erection pressing against his inner thigh and the temperature inside the bunk felt like it had just shot up by about twenty degrees. Alex moved his hips again and Miles gasped. He found himself pushing back automatically, caught by the feeling of it, and Alex’s eyes grew wider in response. Miles rolled his pelvis in an experimental thrust, and Alex arched into him, letting out a strangled _mmmf_ from beneath the hand that Miles still had pressed over his mouth.

It made Miles’s blood burn. All at once he could feel his own erection straining against the confines of his shorts, and he groped downwards, suddenly desperate to rid himself of his clothes. In an instant, Alex’s hands were there too and then they were both tugging at the layers of fabric between them, struggling to pull themselves free. Shorts and underwear were flung to the bottom of the bunk and when Alex pulled them flush against each other, Miles shuddered at the shock of the contact. He felt Alex’s hands tighten around his hips, and then Alex let out another muffled moan as Miles thrust against him once more, both of them now slippery with sweat and each of them hard and slick against the other. Miles pushed his face into Alex’s neck in an attempt to stifle the ragged pant of his own breathing, but his heartbeat was roaring in his ears and he couldn’t tell any more if he was being loud or quiet. One of Alex’s hands slid up his back and buried itself in his hair, and a second later the other hand slid in between them and then Alex’s fingers were curling around both their cocks, pressing them together, and Miles had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself crying out.

He looked down to where Alex was jerking them both slowly, as if he needed to prove to himself that it was really happening, and the sight nearly undid him. He began to pant helplessly against Alex’s neck, conscious of nothing now but the slide of Alex’s hand and the musky smell of his skin. The heat inside the bunk was becoming unbearable, but stopping was impossible; he felt untethered, like he was floating away, and nothing else mattered except the way that Alex was touching him. Alex flicked his wrist and sent another wave of pleasure rolling through Miles’s body. His thumb slid over the head of Miles’s cock and Miles let out a breathless groan. Christ, why did it feel so _good_ to let Alex touch him like this? What the fuck were they _doing_?

He felt Alex’s fingers tighten in his hair, and he forced himself to look up. Alex was staring at him, his eyes half-lidded and his face flushed, his dark locks curled in a crazy tangle about his face. He was beautiful, Miles realised. The thought pierced him like a punch to the heart. He’d always known Alex was attractive, of course – after all, he wasn’t blind; but that wasn’t the same thing at all. It wasn’t the same as the feeling of awe that was now pulsing through his veins.

He pulled his hand away from Alex’s mouth and stared down at him as though hypnotised. He cupped his palm against Alex’s cheek, his fingers sinking into Alex’s hair. The gesture felt weirdly intimate, despite their compromising position, and Miles felt a flutter in his chest when Alex leaned into the touch. Alex’s gaze was intent, his eyes focused, and his hand was moving in quickening strokes, sending bursts of pleasure spiralling through Miles’s body.

Miles was struck with a sudden urge so strong it blindsided him. He wanted to press their mouths together. He wanted to feel the pressure of Alex’s tongue against his own. He wanted it so bad that in that moment he would have given anything for it. And yet he didn’t move, some part of him still uncertain.

Alex blinked up at him, and it was clear he could read the unspoken hesitation on Miles’s face. The rhythm of his hand slowed and his eyebrows lifted. “Miles?” he whispered.

Miles swallowed. He swept his thumb carefully across Alex’s lower lip. “I want to– can I…?”

Alex let out a breathless sigh. “Fuck, yes.”

Miles’s heart jumped in his chest. He kept his eyes open as he leaned in, unable to stop staring at Alex for even a second. Only when their lips brushed did his eyes sink closed, and then he felt the unfamiliar sensation of Alex’s tongue pushing into his mouth, unfamiliar but somehow right, as if they’d been doing this all along. They most definitely hadn’t, but it suddenly seemed to Miles as though they’d been doing everything else _but_ this; as though they’d been dancing around this kind of physical contact for the entirety of the tour without even realising it. It was so obvious now. How had they not recognised this latent desire, burning like magma beneath the surface of every interaction? How could they not have seen it?

Miles moaned into the kiss as Alex began to pump his hand faster, and his own hand crept downwards and wrapped around Alex’s fingers. He found the rhythm and began to match Alex stroke for stroke and Alex stopped kissing him with a whine, his breath hitching in little gasps. Miles felt Alex’s cock grow even stiffer in his hand and he dragged his thumb up the shaft and swept it in a tight circle around the head.

Alex shuddered against him. “ _Fuck_ , Miles.”

Miles responded by sinking his teeth into Alex’s neck. Alex arched into him with a low cry and Miles used his other hand to muffle the sound. “Ssssh.”

Alex muttered something unintelligible, and then he licked one of Miles’s fingers and sucked it into his mouth. He glanced up as he did so and there was something new in his expression. His eyes were no longer merely wide and surprised, but instead were dancing with that subtle spark of mischief that he always had on stage right before he did something provocative.

It made Miles's blood run so hot he could barely think straight, and in that instant it was like any last vestige of inhibition went up in flames between them. He thrust himself into Alex's fist and began to kiss him like he meant it, realising suddenly how much he did. Fucking hell, he _wanted_ him. He wanted him with an ache so deep in his chest it felt like a bruise. He wanted to hold him down and fuck him until Alex was screaming his name. Jesus fucking _Christ_.

“Ssssh,” Alex said, and now Miles realised it was himself who was moaning. His self-awareness was evaporating amid the soft press of Alex’s tongue and the repeated flick of his wrist.

“Fucking hell, Al,” he whispered. “What the fuck–”

His words died at the sudden creak of a footstep. It was much closer than the kitchen. The door to the sleeping area rattled on its runners and then there was movement along the central aisle. Someone was out there. There was a low rustling sound on the other side of the curtain.

Alex’s free hand was pressed to Miles’s mouth in a heartbeat, for all the good it did. His other hand was still wrapped tight around Miles’s cock and Miles could feel himself tipping closer to the edge, as if the sudden threat of discovery had pushed him there and left him teetering on the brink. He trembled, and tried to keep still. He felt Alex’s cock twitch in his palm and realised that Alex’s whole body had gone rigid. Alex’s eyes were clamped shut and he was biting down hard on his lower lip. Christ, Alex was right there too. They were both within a bare inch of coming and they couldn’t fucking move.

“Zach, did you borrow my damn charger again?”

It was Loren’s voice. Miles could hear him rummaging about in one of the bunks on the other side of the walkway. Zach called something back to him from the front of the bus. Miles didn't know what. He didn't care. His blood was pounding in his ears. He could feel Alex growing shakier beneath him from holding his breath.

“No, it’s not here,” Loren called. “Are you sure?”

There was a rustle of fabric and more rummaging sounds.

Miles’s thoughts became a litany of prayers and expletives. _Please, please, please just fuck off, please Christ, fuck, fuck, fuck_ –

Alex’s fingers twitched reflexively where they gripped him, and Miles nearly bit his own tongue in an effort to stay silent. They were both shaking helplessly now. Miles could feel hot sparks of pleasure licking their way outwards from the base of his cock, flickering up his spine and setting fire to the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. Fuck, he was so _close_.

Alex was taking tiny gulps of air, his mouth partly open, his face a grimace of concentration; he was going to lose it any second, Miles was sure, and when he did, he would drag Miles right over the edge with him. Miles clutched at the bedsheets and gritted his teeth. He buried his face against Alex’s neck.

Zach was shouting again from somewhere in the distance. His voice might as well have been coming from another planet.

“Well, why didn't you say that then?” Loren called back. He tutted under his breath and there was another brief rustle. “Found it!”

His footsteps began to move away. The door rattled once more on its runners, and Miles almost collapsed when he heard it slide closed.

Alex groaned in his ear. “Oh fuck, oh fucking _hell_ –”

Miles didn’t wait to hear the rest. He jerked his fist twice in quick succession and gave a violent shudder as the pleasure overtook him. His vision exploded, his nerve endings burst into flames, and then Alex was arching against him, cursing and gasping and Miles could feel the heat pouring off him in a molten flood. He smothered their cries with a kiss and Alex moaned into his mouth, his hand finding a harmony with Miles’s rhythm and his fingers dragging them onwards to a blazing crescendo. They kissed until it seemed the whole world was on fire. They kissed until there was nothing else left to burn, until there was no air left to breathe.

It seemed an age before the flames died back. They lay wrecked amongst the smouldering remains, panting and gasping, and for some minutes there was no other sound but the harsh rasp of their breath.

Miles became aware that he was dripping with sweat, both Alex’s and his own. It was running down his back, trickling between his shoulder blades, pooling in his collarbones. Steam was practically rising from his skin.

Alex was the first to pull away. “Miles, I can’t, it’s too fucking hot, it’s too–”

Miles rolled off him. He made a grab for the bottle of water, uncapped it, and upended it over both of them. Alex flinched back with a cry. He sat up and raked his hands through his hair, blinking the water out of his eyes.

“Is that better?” Miles said.

Alex stared at him like he’d never seen him before. “You’re crazy,” he said.

“ _I’m_ crazy?”

They both went very still, watching each other. There was a long, silent pause.

Alex shook his head slowly. “Maybe we’re both fucking crazy,” he said.

Miles swallowed. “Oh,” he said. “Well… in that case I’d better get up.”

He sat up and reached for the curtain, but then stilled as he felt Alex's hand on his thigh. He hesitated for a second before looking back into Alex’s face.

“Miles,” Alex said. “Are you... are we...?”

“What?”

Alex shook his head again. He reached out, hooked a hand around the back of Miles’s neck and pulled him in close. “You don’t have to go,” he said quietly. “I’m… I’m not sorry.”

Miles felt the tension slip from his shoulders. “Neither am I.”

Alex breathed out in a rush. “Christ,” he said. “Thank fuck for that.”

He leaned in and pressed his mouth to Miles’s lips, and Miles parted them at once. He let Alex kiss him languorous and slow, and he melted helplessly into the feeling of Alex’s tongue sliding against his own. He could feel the embers of his passion stirring, as if even the gentlest breeze might fan them back to life.

After a moment, Alex pulled back. “Do you think they heard us?” he said.

Miles shrugged. “Do you really care?”

Alex said nothing. He traced his fingers across Miles’s collarbones. “You know something?” he said. “I dreamt that I kissed you once. It was a long time ago. Before the tour.”

Miles shivered, despite the heat. “Oh. Was it how you imagined it?”

Alex’s fingers trailed downwards and began to circle Miles’s hip. “No,” he said. “Nothing’s how I imagined it.” His brow twitched into the faintest frown. “I’m starting to realise that reality’ll always be infinitely more unexpected than anything I can dream up.”

“Hey,” Miles said.

Alex looked up at him. His eyes were soft but watchful. Miles could sense the stream of thoughts coalescing tirelessly behind Alex’s mirror-shine pupils.

“Al,” he said. “You know it doesn’t matter if you don’t always have all the answers. You do know that, right?”

Alex smiled. “In theory,” he said. His fingers caressed the inside of Miles’s thigh. “I do know that I worry less about those sorts of things, whenever I’m with you.”

Miles cupped Alex’s face in both his hands. “It’s a good job I’m not going anywhere, then,” he said.

He captured Alex’s mouth with another heated kiss, but this one had more than just desire in it. It also held their years of friendship, and their trust, and all the fondness that was rarely voiced but always felt.

When Miles pulled back, Alex’s eyes were bright and distant, as though he were mesmerised by some impossible future which only he could see.

The rumble of the bus beneath them hit a lower note, and Miles wondered whether they were passing over the state line.

Alex laid a hand on his arm. “Miles,” he said. “What do we do now?”

Miles gave a tiny shrug. “Anything you want,” he said. “But I’m hoping that a private hotel room and a giant fuck-off bed will be featuring heavily in my evening.” He smirked. “What d’yeh reckon?”

Alex’s face relaxed into a grin. “I reckon you should stop staring at me like that, and kiss me again.”

Miles laughed. He threaded his fingers back into the dark tangle of Alex’s hair. The twinkle in Alex’s eyes was like an unspoken promise, and when Miles kissed him, he could feel the wicked curve of his smile.

Miles was smiling too. He had no reason not to. He and Alex had just discovered a brand new world, after all. It was a world with some uncertainty and some inevitable unknowns, but that was only a small part of it. As far as Miles was concerned, it was also a world in which anything was possible; a world in which their hearts’ desires lay before them on any path they might choose to follow.

He wrapped his arms around Alex and kissed him harder. Beneath them the bus’s wheels spun in a never-ending spiral, and carried them forward into the future.


End file.
